Don't Take the Girl
by MissTheSunshine
Summary: One-Shot. AU. Inspired by song by Tim McGraw - Don't Take the Girl. Over the course of 15 years, Damon and Elena grow up together in the perfect, stereotypical, next-door-neighbor setting. But what is supposed to be the happiest moment of their lives proves to also be a nightmare.


**AN:**

 **This is a One-Shot AU. My first song fic.**

 **I think it will make more sense if you listen to the song before reading but it might give away the direction the story will go so it's up to you!**

 **But you should check it out because it's a beautiful song.**

 **Don't Take the Girl - Tim McGraw**

 **Disclaimer: The** _ **Italicized**_ **words in the center do not belong to me! Nor do these characters, I am just borrowing inspiration.**

* * *

 **Summer 1994**

 **Jessie's POV**

 _*** Johnny's daddy was taking him fishing_

 _When he was eight years old ***_

Jesse Salvatore sets down the two tackle boxes in the bed of his truck when he hears a shout and turns to see his son running out of the house in a panic.

"Dad! I can't find my hat, my lucky hat!" he cries with his arms thrown out on either side of him like it is the end of the world.

Jesse chuckles, "Relax, boy. I have it here," he says.

He walks around to the passenger side and grabs the baseball cap out of the open window and presents it to his son. His face lights up in relief that it wasn't lost forever.

When the little guy turned a whopping eight years old a few weeks ago, Jesse gifted him with the cap and told him how he'd bought it for him before he was born because he'd always wanted a son. Ever since then, his boy hadn't wanted to take it off for five minutes.

"There it is!" his little hands yank it from his father's grip and tugs it on over his mane of black hair. "Thanks Dad!"

"You're welcome, buddy. Ready to catch some fish?"

"Yes!"

"Alright. Now, I think we have everything." He looks over all the supplies in the back of the truck and checks off everything, "Two tackle boxes, two fishing vests. We have the bait, we have the ice box cooler. Snacks, poles, extra wire. I think we're set."

"Not quite," a feminine voice says. Jesse looks up to see his wife walking back from visiting with her friend and their next-door neighbor, Miranda Gilbert, and she has a little girl in tow.

He knows what this means and shares a smile with his wife, Lily.

 _*** Little girl came through the front gate_

 _Holding a fishing pole ***_

The little girl, who is six or seven years old with short brown hair and wide, round brown eyes, holds a small fishing pole and she has a shy smile on her face.

The two girls walk through the stereotypical white picket fence and across the yard.

Lily explains, "Little Elena here overheard her mother and I talking about your outing this morning and wants to go with you boys."

 _*** His dad looked down and smiled_

 _Said, 'We can't leave her behind' ***_

Jesse looks at the young girl with a reassuring smile, "Well, that's fine with me. What do you think, Damon?"

His son has the reaction you might expect from an eight year old boy. He stomps his foot and whines, "But, Dad. She's a girl. Girls can't go fishing."

With a glance at Little Elena and the hurt look on her face, he pulls Damon aside and kneels down so they're at the same eye level.

 _*** 'Son, I know you don't want her to go_

 _But someday you'll change your mind' ***_

"Listen, just because she's a girl doesn't mean she can't fish. Who knows? Maybe she'll be really good at it."

"But-"

"Don't you want to give her a chance?"

"Dad-"

"I'm sure it would make her feel pretty special."

"Yeah, but-"

"She's a nice girl. You could be best friends one day."

 _*** And Johnny said, 'Take Jimmy Johnson, take Tommy Thompson, take my best friend Bo._

 _Take anybody that you want as long as she don't go, take any boy in the world. ***_

"Why can't we take Matt Donovan or Tyler Lockwood? We could take Ric! _Any_ of my other friends but not _her._ "

"Damon," his father admonishes, "One day you're going to thank me."

Ten minutes later, Jesse waves out the window to his wife and drives down the road with Little Elena sitting between him and Damon in the front of his 1965 Ford pickup.

Damon looks out the window, grumbling under his breath but the beaming smile on Elena's face makes up for it.

Given that this was supposed to be father-son time, he understands why Damon is so grouchy, but he doesn't feel the least bit guilty about letting this sweet girl tag along for the ride.

 _*** 'Daddy, please, don't take the girl.' ***_

When they arrive at the lake some of Damon's enthusiasm returns and he hops out of the truck.

"Hurry up, Dad! Let's get the stuff. C'mon!"

"Okay, okay," Jesse laughs. He puts the bed of the truck down and starts handing Damon his share of the fishing gear. Little Elena is standing beside them patiently waiting.

"It's lucky you're here, Elena. I don't think Damon and I could have carried all this by ourselves," he says handing her a couple things. Of course he knows they could have; they didn't bring any more supplies than they usually do but he wants her to feel included.

Once they're all loaded up they walk down to the end of the dock. He planned for a good time because they seem to be the only ones on this side of the lake.

Jesse helps the kids set up their poles with bait and shows Elena how to press the button that will allow the string to extend when she's ready to cast her hook.

"Damon, why don't you show Elena first how it's done and then you can help her cast hers," he gives his son a pointed look that says he better be polite and Damon seems to understand.

Jesse stands back and watches his son make a nice cast and reels it back in slowly like he taught him. Then, as instructed, he guides Elena as she attempts a few times to do what Damon did.

It takes her a minute to figure it out but then she gives a pretty good throw and her hook splashes in the water a few feet in front of them.

"Good job," Damon praises her. "Now you just twist the knob to reel it in because if you let it sit for too long it could get caught on rocks or plants and then you have to cut the wire and start over and _that_ is a real pain."

Satisfied that they're getting along and both have the hang of things, Jesse sets up his own gear and breathes in the scent of the trees around them. Fishing always brought a sense of calm and peace to him ever since he was a boy at Damon's age and his own father brought him to this very spot.

He looks back over to the young girl sitting beside his boy and smiles at remembering what it was like being that young. He hopes they are lucky enough to find the same happiness that he and Lily have.

After all, him and his wife had met in a very similar way as to how these two did and just like Damon, he hadn't liked her at first. Not at all.

Unfortunately, he was very stubborn as a kid and it took him a long time to even want to be in the same room as Lily Pierce. But based on the giggles and laughter coming from the two youngsters at the end of the dock, his son is already doing much better than he did.

All it took was a little nudge in the right direction and getting Damon to share his favorite hobby with the little girl from next door.

* * *

 **Summer 2004**

 **Elena's POV**

 _*** Same old boy, same sweet girl_

 _Ten years down the road ***_

Elena is just about ready to go to meet Damon. She slips on her shoes by the door to her bedroom and grabs the hat from the hook on the wall, tugging it on and glancing in the mirror at her reflection one last time.

He told her to dress casual so she's in a typical jeans and t-shirt outfit for their date but she knows the thing that stands out is her hat; _his_ hat.

On his eighteenth birthday, in true selfless-Damon-fashion, he'd given his 'lucky hat' to her. She'd been shocked to receive a gift when he should be the one getting presents and when he handed her his hat she'd nearly cried.

He said that it was one of his favorite things in the world next to his gorgeous classic 1969 Chevy Camaro Convertible and her.

When she tried to refuse to take it because there was "no way she could accept something so valuable to him" he explained that he'd had the hat for the same amount of time that they'd known each other: ten years. And he knew that they were going to see another ten years together.

That was how he told her he was in love with her for the first time.

Then she really did cry and she told him she felt the same and had for so long. And their admission of love had been followed by the first time they slept together.

She smiles thinking of that night. Of course, after that she had gladly accepted his gift and she'd been wearing the old baseball cap every chance she got. Which was often.

The hook on the wall by her door was solely for the hat to hang on so she wouldn't forget it any time she left her room.

She yells goodbye to her mom and walks across the yard to his house. They're still neighbors and their mothers are still best friends.

As she expected he is waiting for her, propped against the hood of his baby.

"Hey, beautiful," he smiles, taps the rim of the cap, and kisses her in greeting. "Ready to go?"

"Yep. Still not going to tell me where we're going?"

"Hmm…" he seems to consider it. "Nope," he says with the smirk she both loves and hates.

She slides into the shotgun with a sigh, "Fine, but if it's lame then I get to pick the next date."

He starts the car and revs the engine, "That's a deal you're gonna lose."

"You're way too cocky."

"You love it," he says cheekily.

"Mm-hm keep dreamin', Salvatore."

He laughs and guns it onto the highway.

When he takes the exit two towns over, she bites her tongue to refrain from asking him again where they're going.

They take a few turns, leading them to the outskirts of town, past all the shopping centers and neighborhoods.

By this time the sun has set and the street lights flicker on.

When she sees it, she can't help the face-splitting grin that hurts her cheeks and she knows he was right and she just lost the deal.

"A drive-in movie? I've _always_ wanted to go to one of these!"

He finds a good spot, pulls in, and shuts off the ignition. "So I take it you don't think this is lame?"

"Oh, shut up. What movie is it?"

He huffs a big sigh and grumbles, "That new chick flick you and all the other girls keep giggling about."

Elena's eyebrows shoot up into her hairline, "The Notebook? You brought me to a _drive-in_ to see The _Notebook_?"

He looks worried for a second. "If you don't want-"

She shoots across the seats and throws her arms around him, "Oh my god, Damon, you were right! I _do_ love you!" she squeals with delight. She peppers his face with many kisses before finding his lips.

"I'm glad you like it. Now," he reaches into the back and pulls out a thick wool quilt and a smaller blanket. "let's get to our front row seats. It should start in about ten minutes."

He gets out of the car and spreads the quilt across the hood. Elena climbs up next to him and he drapes the blanket over them.

She feels so wonderfully warm and safe in his arms, perfectly content there for the whole movie. As it comes to an end Elena is trying to hold back tears at the sweet love story.

Through the whole thing, she couldn't help but compare Damon and herself to the characters Noah and Ally. Although she isn't naive enough to think life will be anything like the movies, she hopes they get the happy ending she's been dreaming about for years.

As the credits roll up the large screen, most of the other cars in the lot start up and drive away. The others, she suspects, have occupants that are too busy to even know the movie ended.

She thinks about the love scene between Noah and Ally and how well done it was by the actors. It seemed real enough that it actually got her a little hot and bothered.

Of course it didn't help that Damon was playing with her hair, an unfair weakness, the whole time. But she'd refused to kiss him even for a moment, partially because she knew that once she started she wouldn't want to stop and partially because she didn't want to miss any part of the movie she'd been dying to see all summer.

But now that the movie is over…

 _*** He held her tight and kissed her lips_

 _In front of the picture show ***_

She turns her head and he is already looking at her with a familiar heat in his eyes.

Their lips connect and fire ignites in her belly. Damon squeezes her to his chest.

After several minutes of nipping, tasting, teasing, and begging for more, Damon pulls away. They hop down from the car and he throws the blankets in the backseat where they will be put to better use.

Damon is about to climb in, with Elena right behind him when she hears a noise behind her.

 _*** Stranger came and pulled a gun, grabbed her by the arm_

 _Said, 'If you do what I tell you to there won't be any harm' ***_

Faster than she can react, someone has grabbed her arm in a tight grip, dragged her back a few feet from the car and Damon, and pushed something hard, round, and cold into her side.

"Elena!" Damon yells, horrified.

"Ah, ah, ah. Don't do anything stupid," a deep voice says from right above her ear and then the unmistakable sound of a gun cock clicks.

She sees Damon freeze at the same time that she does.

Her heart is pounding in her chest, adrenaline is coursing through her, and the fear is striking.

Elena fleetingly wonders if this is real; if this is really how she's going to die. She considers all the things she never got to do in her life. All the things she could have done but never did.

She thinks about her family; how she didn't hug her mom when she left today, she just shouted into the house and didn't even wait for a reply.

She thinks about her friends; they had so many plans and ideas for their Senior year. Now, she'll never see them again or go to her graduation?

She thinks about Damon; this boy she grew up with and has come to love with all her heart and how he did something so special for her tonight. She can't help but think that if he hadn't been so damn thoughtful, they wouldn't be here.

And looking at him, a few feet away from her with wide eyes filled with fear, and trembling hands held out toward her, she aches to touch him just one more time. Just one more kiss. One more _I love you._

Her eyes sting with tears and she wishes she was strong enough not to spend her final moments in this life crying. But she's not and they stream down her face.

"Damon," she sobs.

"Quiet," the man holding her hisses.

"Easy, easy," Damon says, though she's not sure if he's talking to her or the man with a gun.

 _*** And Johnny said, 'Take my money, take my wallet, take my credit cards, here's the watch_

 _that my grandpa gave me, here's the key to my car, Mister give it a whirl ***_

"What do you want?" Damon asks. "I'll give you anything. Anything you want. I have money, this watch," he gestures to the watch on his wrist that she knows came from his grandfather who passed away a couple years ago. "This watch is probably pretty valuable. You can take my car. Anything. Just not-"

Damon, in his earnest, takes a step forward.

The man yanks her back another step, jabs the gun into her side, and shouts, "Don't move!"

 _*** But, please, don't take the girl' ***_

Damon steps back, his knees are bent and he looks like he's dealing with a wild animal. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Look, please just-"

The man cuts him off, "I want you to take everything out of your pockets, wallet, cell phone, pager, whatever you have, leave them on the seat, and start the car. If you try anything heroic, I will shoot this pretty thing quicker than you can blink. Got it?"

"Yes," Damon answers immediately.

Very slowly, Damon takes out his wallet, and his brand new Razor flip phone, making sure the man sees what they are before putting them on the seat. He then takes out the keys and slowly leans in to start the car. The roar of the engine disguises Elena's whimper as the man moves the gun from her ribs to the side of her head.

"Good. Now, very slowly walk ten feet away behind the car and sit on your hands."

Damon, again, follows the instructions.

A minute later, when Elena thinks he might just shoot her anyway, the man roughly pushes her aside and she falls on her hands and knees, the asphalt scraping her palms.

Behind her she hears the squeel of the tires as the man skids out of the lot. Only a moment later, Damon is at her side, pulling her up.

"Elena! Elena, baby, are you okay? Are you alright?"

He helps her to her feet and she throws her arms around his neck, crushing herself into him. "Damon," she sobs again.

The lingering fear and rush of relief floods through her.

She's _alive!_

She's in his arms again.

 _Safe._

 _Safe._

 _Warm and safe._

 _Damon._

Elena is gulping breaths of air but it doesn't feel like any oxygen is reaching her lungs and she keeps gasping. She feels the hum of Damon's voice but can't decipher his words.

She's _alive._

 _Alive._

She can see her friends and family again. She gets to turn eighteen in a few months. She will graduate from high school.

 _Damon. He just saved my life._

She pulls away only enough to push their lips together in a bruising kiss.

" _Damon…"_

" _Elena…"_

" _I love you…"_

" _So, so much."_

After several minutes of holding onto each other, Elena's sobs turn to soft sniffles and Damon pulls back and wipes her tear-streaked face with his thumbs.

She feels puffy like a blowfish, she's sure that her makeup is running, and she must look like a wreck but he's looking at her with a tenderness that nearly breaks her heart.

He places a kiss on her forehead and takes her hand. "C'mon."

Damon leads them to the nearest car, clear on the other side of the lot, and knocks on one of the fogged up windows. She averts her eyes in case there is something she doesn't want to see behind the glass.

When the window rolls down a few inches a male voice spits, "What the hell, man?"

He makes it sound like Damon is breaking some kind of bro code even though they don't know these people.

Damon explains what happened to them and that they need help. The couple inside seem to take sympathy because a few moments later they are standing outside with her, fully clothed and looking a little shaken themselves.

She doesn't really hear the words being exchanged but it appears that the man, Mason, has a cell phone that he lets Damon use.

The girl, Katherine, offers Elena some water which she accepts. It's comforting to know there are still good people, perfect strangers, in the world that will help you, not rob you.

Damon hangs up the phone and says, "Dad's coming to get us right now. It'll be about twenty minutes."

The other couple stays with them, talking about how they should report to the police first thing and give a good description of the event. Mason tells a story about a buddy of his that was in a similar situation and they ended up catching the criminal.

Elena wonders if the story is true or if he's just trying to make them feel better. Either way, she's grateful that these people are being so nice.

Fourteen minutes after Damon ended the call, his dad pulls into the lot and stops beside them. He jumps out and pulls her into a hug right away.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

She nods against his chest. Jesse Salvatore has been like a second dad to her for the past ten years. They've formed a close bond that sometimes her own father is jealous of. He never fails to give her comfort, advice, or a shoulder to lean on.

He pats her back a couple times and releases her to hug his son.

More words are spoken that she doesn't pay heed to, she's still so wrapped up in her own thoughts.

She does notice that they exchange phone numbers because Katherine and Mason want to know if they catch the "sick bastard".

They say their goodbyes and Elena climbs into the old, familiar Ford pickup that Jesse still drives. She sits in her usual spot between the two men.

But unlike her first ride in this car, Damon holds her close and she takes solace in his embrace because she knows he will always protect her.

* * *

 **Summer 2009**

 **Damon's POV**

 _*** Same old boy, same sweet girl_

 _Five years down the road ***_

Damon lays in the darkness of their bedroom, staring adoringly at his wife. She's finally sleeping after getting up to use the bathroom for the third time that night. Her restless bladder usually means he wakes up too but on nights he doesn't have to work the next day he doesn't mind the disturbance of sleep.

It gives him a chance to gaze at her since she won't allow it when she's awake. She's become very self-conscious the last few months, like most women in her situation do, and doesn't accept compliments about her appearance even though he's dying to confess that she's even more beautiful like this.

He gave her a year after graduating from high school to propose, which seemed generous to him since he'd wanted to get down on one knee the minute she turned eighteen. But seeing as she'd still been in school and he had a dead end job, he figured he'd wait a little longer and avoid death by Papa-Gilbert.

They've been married nearly three years and he's never been happier. Even though they're still young, _very_ young according to their friends and family, at two years into their marriage they agreed to start _trying_.

Not that they didn't _try_ all the time, but there was a lot more to it after that. There was something startlingly intimate about purposefully creating life.

You'd think that sex, and _good_ sex, was as intimate as it got. But even sex with Elena got better when they had a different goal in mind.

He then thought that those weeks of _trying_ were as intimate as it got but when they got the confirmation that their "hard work" had paid off and she was pregnant… whoa.

And now, eight and a half months later, he swears there is nothing more intimate and soul-revealing than making love to your spouse with the life you've created together nestled between your bodies.

 _*** There's gonna be a little one and_

 _she says, 'It's time to go' ***_

His eyes are drooping closed and he thinks he might get a few more hours of sleep when he feels her jerk awake with a gasp.

"Again? You just went not even an hour ago," he chuckles.

"This isn't a bathroom break. Oh!"

He sits up when she groans in pain. "Elena! Are you okay?"

She moans again. "Oh! Ohhh-oww!"

"What is it? Cramps?"

"No, I think these are contractions."

"Are you sure? How do you know?"

"I don't know! I've never done this before!" she yells.

"Well, should we go to the hospital?" he asks patiently.

A moment passes in silence and he tries not to push her.

He hears her sigh. "Ah. No. I- I think I'm okay. Maybe it was just a cramp- ah! It's not a cramp! Oh, Damon!"

Damon jumps up from the bed and throws on the clothes that have been laid out for this occasion for three weeks. He grabs her hospital bag and checks that everything is inside.

"Damon," she cries again.

"Okay, okay, okay," he says to himself, trying to stay calm. Even if this is just a "scare" like his parents and the doctors warned about, he has to be prepared.

He grabs her pair of stretchy sweat pants and goes to her side of the bed. Her face is twisted in pain and fear.

"Baby, listen. Hey, you're gonna be fine. Okay? We're gonna go to the hospital and they're gonna help you. Breathe, Elena. Just like we practiced, right? In through the nose, out through the mouth. Good. Now lift your legs so we can put these on."

She follows his instructions.

"Hospital," she confirms.

They get to the car, with a lot of breathing breaks for Elena to handle the pain of the contractions. He has the bag in the backseat and Elena in the passenger and he's pulling onto the road in record time.

Damon's relieved that it's early enough that there's no traffic but he hopes he doesn't get pulled over for speeding.

They arrive at the hospital and he only ran a couple stop signs. The emergency response gets her a room right away and he holds her hand the whole way there. Turns out it's not one of those "scares", this is the real thing. She's in labor.

He manages to remember to make some phone calls to their family even though it's the middle of the night. Their parents promise to be there as soon as possible and tell him to hang in there.

The next few hours pass simultaneously in a blur and agonizing slowness.

Part of him is counting every minute and the other part is so distracted that it feels like they've been there for weeks and he doesn't know what day it is.

What he _does_ know is that he's never heard the word 'push' so much at one time ever before in his life and he also knows that all of it was worth the moment he hears his son's first cry.

Damon looks at his wife and she is transfixed on the child that just left her body. He looks at their baby and is overcome with the love that pours from his chest.

"Dad, you want to cut the cord?" a nurse asks, extending the scissors to him.

He looks at Elena again. She nods, "Go on."

He lets go of her hand and takes the scissors. They assure him it won't hurt Elena or the baby so he snips the cord and they wrap him in a cloth and hand him to Elena for the instant mother-child bond. Their eyes meet and it's like the world stops.

There is so much in this moment. So much tenderness and love and joy and pure emotion. He knows they will remember this forever.

"You did amazing, sweetheart," he whispers against the crown of her head.

"He's so beautiful, Damon," she weeps.

"You both are," he swipes a finger across the little chubby cheek. "Hey, Son."

Elena looks between them, "My boys."

Soon after that the nurses say they have to go through their procedure for the health and safety of the baby so they carry him over to the cleaning table. He follows them and listens to the nurses announce his time of birth, his weight, and his length. One nurse writes it all down in a folder.

Then they ask for his name.

Again, he looks to Elena. She's pale and crying and beautifully happy when she says, "Stefan. Stefan Oliver Salvatore." He beams at her, proud of the name they chose.

A rapid beeping sound comes from one of the machines by Elena's bed and at first he thinks it's normal until the doctor and nurses start looking concerned.

They start shuffling around the room and saying things in doctor-gibberish and the air changes from happy and calm to worried and panicked in a second.

 _*** Doctor says 'The baby's fine, but you'll have to leave 'cause his_

 _momma's fading fast and Johnny hit his knees and there he prayed ***_

"Mr. Salvatore, we're going to have to ask you to go to the waiting room."

"What, why? What's going on? Is she okay? What about my son?"

"We're going to take care of your son."

"What's wrong with my wife?!"

"Mr. Salvatore, please. We have to ask you to leave. The doctor will inform you when we have an analysis of the situation."

They have two nurses usher him to the waiting room and he feels an ice-cold fist clench around his heart. His veins seem to freeze and he can't breathe. The pain is staggering.

 _*** 'Take the very breath You gave me, take the heart from my chest,_

 _I'll gladly take her place if You'll let me, make this my last request_

 _Take me out of this world ***_

Damon's back hits a wall and he lets his legs bend as he slides down to the floor. He puts his head in his hands and starts mumbling, praying, pleading with anyone and everything.

"Oh, please, God. This can't be happening. Not again. Oh, please I can't lose her. Not even for a minute. Please, this can't be real. It has to be a dream. She's going to be fine. She's going to be fine. She'll be okay. She _has_ to be okay. Please, I can't live without her. I can't do it. Please, God."

 _*** God, please, don't take the girl' ***_

"Mr. Salvatore?"

Damon's head jerks up and his eyes refocus on the nurse that called his name.

"Would you like to see your son?"

He jumps up and nods. She smiles politely and leads him down the hall to the hospital nursery. She has him wash his hands up to his elbows very thoroughly before letting him in the room to hold his son.

She picks him up from the bed and places the boy in his arms. She gives him small instructions about supporting the head and cradling him against his body.

Damon almost remarks that he's not an idiot but he suspects the woman is just doing her job of protecting the young infant's here from first-time-dads.

When she finally leaves him alone he looks at the child in his arms. The same powerful wave of love from earlier engulfs him again.

This is his _son._

He's a _father_ now.

This is his flesh and blood.

And Elena's flesh and blood.

 _Their_ flesh and blood and love all mixed together.

He tries to ignore the stab of panic at the thought of his wife and instead focuses on his boy. _His_ boy.

"Hey there, little guy. It's your da-da." The boy is sleeping soundly but the movement behind his eyelids leads Damon to think he's having some nice dreams right now.

"I'm your daddy. And I know one day you're going to be big and strong but until then I'm going to protect you. When you're older I'll play with you and teach you things. And I will _always, always_ love you. Your mom and I both. You mean so much to us, Stefan. Already, and you just got here. How is that even possible? That you're already so important?"

Damon continues to talk to his son, basking in the amazement of something so common. Thousands of babies are born every single day. Does everyone feel like this?

He wants to roar with pride and possessiveness and at the same time shield him from the cruel world forever.

He wants to be sharing these thoughts and feelings and first moments with Elena.

Coming to the conclusion that Stefan is in good hands for now, he promises to come back soon but he _needs_ to find out what is going on with his wife. He needs to be with her.

He leaves the nursery and makes his way down the white hallways, counting his steps. When he reaches the small waiting room for this level of the hospital he sees his and Elena's parents huddled together.

His father notices him first, "Damon."

They all seem to start speaking at once.

"We got here as soon as we could…"

"...so sorry, we had trouble finding the right wing…"

"...has he arrived yet?"

"...how's Elena doing?"

The last question shatters him because he has no idea how she's doing and he's terrified to tell them.

He explains what happened this morning as best he can and when he finishes they're all left with the same question concerning his wife and their daughter: "What could possibly have gone wrong?"

Miranda Gilbert, his mother-in-law, his mom's best friend, a fierce woman, and someone he has come to love and respect, marches over to the nurses station and demands answers. The nurse tries explaining that they, the doctors, haven't given any new information.

"I'm asking you if you will go find out what is going on with my daughter," Mama-Gilbert says sternly.

The young woman in blue scrubs nods and hurries through the double doors that are separating him from her.

Damon paces the hall in front of the doors and when they open again, it's not the nurse who returns.

It's a man in about his forties or fifties in a white doctor's coat. He has a grim look on his face.

"Mr. Salvatore… We did everything we could."

"No," Damon says.

"I'm afraid it wasn't enough," the doctor continues. "Her fever spiked and there was too much blood loss. Even though it wasn't a particularly long labor compared to others, the pain sent her body into shock and…"

The doctor's mouth continues to move as though it's speaking but Damon no longer hears the words. He can't hear anything. Everything is muffled. Everything is numb.

"...I'm very sorry."

He is empty.

There is nothing left.

"Damon? _Damon_."

Someone touches his shoulder.

But he shrugs it off and walks… somewhere.

A loud _ping_ sounds, elevator doors open and a family walks out, some of them laughing. How can they be happy? Do they not feel the emptiness in the world?

He walks into the elevator and hears someone shout his name again but he ignores it and hits the button to close the doors and then the emergency STOP.

Damon lets out a shuddering breath and it hitches on the way back in. He clasps both hands over his mouth.

Maybe he can just stop breathing. Surely that would be easier?

His head starts throbbing, his lungs burn for oxygen, and his eyes sting.

He wrenches his hands away and takes a big gulp of air.

Falling to his knees, he puts his head on the ground and lets the wracking sobs take over his entire being.

He screams and it echoes off the small confines of the elevator.

His whole body _aches_.

What is this pain?

It's as if he has been ripped into a million pieces.

 _*** 'God, please, don't take the girl' ***_

" _Damon,"_ she says, "' _If there ever comes a day we can't be together, keep me in your heart, I'll stay there forever.'"_

" _You stole that from Winnie the Pooh,"_ he accuses her, " _You just used Winnie the Pooh in your wedding vows?"_ She nods with smile and a blush. " _It's a good thing I already love you. You're kind of ridiculous."_

" _That's exactly what you love about me,"_ she says and then, seemingly out of nowhere, she takes off her white veil and tugs on his old lucky baseball cap. The hat is the perfect finishing touch to her wedding dress and glowing face.

She always knew exactly how to get him.

And now she's gone.

* * *

 **Summer 2017**

 **Stefan's POV**

 _*** Johnny's daddy was taking him fishing_

 _When he was eight years old ***_

"Dad, do you like that our birthdays are so close together?" Stefan asks.

His dad looks at him, his blue eyes filled with surprise. "Yeah, I do, Stef. I think we got pretty lucky to have our birthdays only two days apart. Why do you ask?"

Stefan almost wishes he didn't ask now. "Well… because you're always so sad on our birthdays."

He watches Damon's face change. Now he's done it. Stefan looks down at his lap, ashamed. He shouldn't have said anything.

"Oh, Stefan. Hey, look at me buddy." He does. "It's not because of you. You are my favorite person in the whole wide world and I love celebrating our birthdays together. I love opening our presents at the same time and getting a whole cake to ourselves. I love coming out here," he gestures to the dock they sit on, "and fishing with you. I love all of it. Don't you?"

Stefan nods. "It's because you miss Mom, isn't it?"

Oh, man. Why'd he ask that? He should've just kept his mouth shut.

Damon clears his throat and says softly, "Yeah. Yeah, it's 'cause I miss Mom."

"I miss her too. Even though I never met her."

His dad draws in a quick breath. "You did meet her, Stef. Right after you were born the doctors handed you to her. She loved you so much. And did you know that the last words she spoke was your name?"

Stefan shakes his head. "Really?"

"Really. The doctors asked us what we were going to name you and she said, 'Stefan Oliver Salvatore' and she was so happy."

He becomes quiet and thoughtful with this new information. After a moment of consideration he says, "Grandpa told me that he took you and Mom fishing here. That this is where you became friends?"

"That's true. She was standing right where you are now. My dad taught me, and I taught her, and now I'm teaching you. Wanna know something else?"

Stefan nods and Damon pauses to lick his lips. Then he taps the hat on Stefan's head that he'd given to him the night before and says, "This baseball cap is as old as I am. Your grandpa gave it to me for _my_ eighth birthday when I was old enough to wear it. A few years later my head got too big to wear it so I gave it to your mom. And she was the last one to wear it."

Stefan feels a stinging at the corners of his eyes and sniffles. "It's pretty special then, isn't it?"

His dad looks as sad as he feels. "Yes, it is. So I want you to take good care of it, okay?"

"I will, Dad. I promise."

 _fin_

* * *

 **AN:**

 **Wow, what an emotional roller coaster! For me anyway.**

 **Please, if you've made it this far please, please … take just a moment to leave a review.**

 **I would love the feedback because I was thinking of doing another song fic and I want to know… did you guys love it, hate it? Have any constructive criticism?**

 **Again, the song is called:** **Don't Take the Girl - by Tim McGraw.**

 **Thank you so much!**


End file.
